


a heart aflame: the arsonist's lullabye

by Lethally



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn backstory, Gen, mild main story spoilers, no dlc spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethally/pseuds/Lethally
Summary: Ardyn Izunia and the hidden price of healing





	a heart aflame: the arsonist's lullabye

**Author's Note:**

> an idea that came to me because who would ever wear this many layers without reason? 
> 
> a friend reminded me it existed so i'm posting it before ep Ardyn happens (who's excited? ME!)

As a child, he had been mischievous, sneaking away from his tutors and guards for a few moments of uninterrupted peace. But alas he had always been too predictable, as he always took refuge by the large windows that reflected Eos’ sunlight. He had always preferred warmth to the cold, opting to travel through Cleigne’s deserts on foot and trudging through the swamps of Duscae on his faithful chocobo. And when came his duty along with his eighteenth birthday, he had taken on the burden of healing his people from the Scourge with nary a sigh, for it was his duty as prince. Travelling the land for ten years had allowed him to see unparalleled sights, learn all kind of healing magics and free his people from the taint of daemons.

Alas, the Gods hadn’t learned yet of the consequences of healing the taint, and he hadn’t either. He was Ardyn Lucis Caelum, travelling the land to find the injured and cure them from the dark taint that plagued their bodies. And if taking away the taint off a dozen people left his body cold and numb for a few hours, well magic always came with a price and as long as the fires of havens could warm him again, it was no bother. Until through the years the chill seeped into his bones, leaving him shivering for weeks, and bundling up into warmer clothes during the heaviest days of summer. The people did not take notice as long as he kept healing them, and the Gods foretold that upon his twenty eighth’s birthday he would be able to cleanse Eos from the Scourge.

Yet even the Gods’ plans are not set in stone, and when came the time to enter the crystal, he was denied entry, and cast aside for he was impure. Impure? All because he had taken upon himself the taint of his people? Because he had done as asked and carried his duty? Where did his intentions count, did the wish to see his people happy not carry him for ten years of exhausting travels? The chill set into his bones as if his body had been made with Lady Shiva’s ice.

And so the denied king went and searched for a way to feel warm again, but the desert’s heat barely left a tingling sensation on his face. Thankfully he was at least spared the need to fight off daemons — his hands so cold he could not even hold his sword —, it seemed to daemons he was of their kin, a monster roaming the nights and hungering for human blood. It did not take long for the king and his people to notice that fact. Denied of all support, cursed and spit on, he had no choice and found in himself no more regret at seeking help from Ifrit himself.

Their endeavor was poorly planned, and doomed to fail. But two millennia hung up in chains in an island without any source of warmth, with no one to talk to but himself and a hateful god when he chose to show up, left him with enough time to plan and scheme until there was no scenario he hadn’t envisioned, and not even the King of Kings would stop him from burning the world to ashes until he finally felt warm again.


End file.
